Care is the birth place of worry. Some of the people I wonder and worry about the most are in Peru. Some of it is that I can not be there to continue to help them. Some of it is that they have so far to go....more and more it is rather, they have both come so far and I can see so clearly that they have much further and farther to go....more digression....
I love watching everyone's faces at the first Hospital breakfast. This is a breakfast put on by a hospital cafeteria. I honestly struggle gathering all of the words but combine single serve Valeeta slices with bread, butter and coffee that is served truly as espresso and left to you to water down. And you can't forget the corn juice called chicha. Purple almost like beets but tastes actually good. (That's right Joanne and other Polaks...I don't like beets. I do like chicha...;-).
After breakfast we make our way up to the rehab dept. Since I am not there....though you think I am....I wish I could have experienced the boxes already ARRIVED!! 60 patients waiting in the rehab gym. Some old, most are new. So many faces waiting ever so patiently for the people from the north.
For me now, it is like any strong memory. I can remember the smell air, the hospital, the cafeteria, the patients. It is a happy memory. People enter the room and hug every human in the room. Then work begins.
Day 0 - I am not in Peru...yet. By the time you read this post I should be already at the hospital. As I write this I am sitting on the plane enroute.
In the end I pulled the trifecta. I have traveled to Peru by plane, train and automobile. Del and Phil would be proud. My day began with my Ghanan cabbie driving me to the Atlanta Passport Agency. My appointment was for 10AM. I arrived at 8AM. Better to be early. Maybe someone won't show. Maybe they'll move quickly. Upon arrival a pleasant gentleman informed me that you can't arrive 2hrs early. He mentioned a couple good places to hold up. Upon my return, I go to the agency line. A pleasant woman asks to see my documents. She informs me that one (current travel itinerary) of my documents is not sufficient. To which my response was, "oh....before I ask anything else I really need a bathroom."
In the end I had the right document all along. Hadn't checked all my pockets. ;-).
Getting through the passport agency security proved a bit more difficult than most situations. You see, I travelled here with all my luggage. When they scanned my suitcase and saw something suspect...well...they needed to see and ask why I had 2 rolls of stretch elastic wrap, bags of rivets, bags of chafes, sanding cones and latex gloves. I'm on the plane now. No worries. ;-)
The agency was really decent. They really helped me expedite my passport likety split.
Do you have a couple more minutes? I got 1-2 more stories to tell.
You see, I needed to wait 2 hrs for my passport to get completed. I asked William, my agency officer, where I should go. He told me the Olympic park was just 2 blocks away. Genius.
Half the park was blocked off by what appeared to be the staging of a Hooray For Everything Extravaganza #Simpsons, #Old Faithful, # UWP.
I parked myself on a bench in partial sun....I'm alopecian after all...and did what everyone was doing today. Popped on my mifi and iPad so I could watch the finish of the Boston marathon. I have to say that the women's finish was pretty awesome.
As the women finished the marathon, I noticed over my shoulder a strange gentleman seemingly struggling with changing the flat on his bicycle. As Estaban can tell you, I am quite adept at changing flat tires. I quickly packed my things tight. Hoisted my case and accoutrements over to his bench and said...hey buddy, you need a hand? No. I'm good he said. Mind you, my .5sec assessment of this individual was not on point. You see it was 80 deg. He was wearing cargo shorts with calf high rubber boots, and a wool sweater AND hat. As I then quickly surveyed his bike.....I should only need to say rubber boots and Schraeder valve....and you should know what I was up against and perhaps shouldn't have pushed my way in. This guy pulled out a tube that had been patched and repatched about 20 times. Each patch was a clipping from an older tube. Each patch was glued on with gorilla glue. In all, it was hard to tell how many tubes were truly making up this ONE tube. I wanted to ask him how he knew when enough was enough.... I chose to not
You see....he was having hard time finding the leak. Another seemingly homeless person nearby joined in. I always put it to my ear, he says. Me too....my guy says. I added...we really need to consult the fountain. What? Said my guy ( no, I never learned his name...I am sort of ashamed of that). Yes, I said. Pump the tube up just a little. We will take it to the fountain and look for the bubbles.
In the end...if you ever need an Atlanta Georgia Olympic Park Tour...I know a guy. ;-). At then end of our tube repairment, he says....hey, I saw you with you iPad. Is that the new iPad Air? Here's mine. I can't believe how light it it is. TRUE STORY
Hasta Manana, mis amigos
Pablo
Chicha is "corn juice"???
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